Fortunately we had information from someone who'd passed this way a couple of months ago (we met in Pokhara).
The dual carriageway on the map doesn't exist.
We headed towards Dimapur.
We are leaving the plain.
And here is no different.
The building material of choice for this school is bamboo.
This appealing sign is just on the state border welcoming us to Nagaland.
The gps was "a bit out".
Asking directions was an interesting experience.
None of the instant interest and willingness to help.
More an eastern European reluctance to become involved.
But once people understood what we were asking they helped.
Sorry about the raindrops. I haven't got window opening working yet.
Some are manned, some are manned and want us to stop.
This was a miscellaneous check point outside Dimapur as we started the climb into the hills.
A series of prices for transporting various livestock - including rabbits at the bottom.
And cold in the cab without heating.
We climb into the mountains of Nagaland.
Heavy traffic and rain.
Plus very tired.
But not too tired to notice the dog on the menu.
This state is not vegetarian.
The notice is a reminder that testing the sex of baby before birth is illegal.
We've also noticed signs about the WWII "Battle of Kohima".
Presumably the Japanese managed to get this far west. With the help of their Thai-Burma rail line.
Woke to a bit of sunshine.
As well as the churches, schools with Christian names, and roadside signs ....
there's something unsettling about a potentially out of control jeep rounding a corner with "Jesus Saves" across the windscreen.
Perhaps its because we haven't seen this level of religious promotion anywhere else on our travels.
The road through the mountains is a bit potholed and a bit slow.
Our average speed is about 25 km/hr.
It all helps to make this part of India seem very un-Indian.
Looking a bit like covers for large jars?
A "waiting shed".
We've seen a few.
None of the confines of a simple bus stop. All sorts of transport.
Not sure what the person in the grave is waiting for though?
Looks a bit like an Aussie mail bus would look like a few years ago.
The big stones are hand fed into the mechanical crusher.
A step up from crushing by hand.
Have to look at a topographical map to make sense of what feels like a maze.
We've had to abandon our usual picture of "NS" or "EW" countries and go with the flow.
Serious business. They are wearing flak jackets and protective head gear.
And (to us) big automatic guns.
We hope there isn't a connection between the Christian presence and the military one.
Somewhere there's a band of hills that runs from here through Myanmar, Northern Thailand and we think into Laos.
Occupied by "hill tribes". In some places oppressed. The Assam Rifles describe themselves as "Friends of the Hill Tribes".
Follow the river to Imphal.
More hand feeding the crusher.
The diagonal road below us is where we wanted to be ....
If only my treatment were free ... though I guess I'd settle for "works".
More research required.
It stands to one side of the road from Imphal to Moreh.
We think WWII again.
Over the hill to Moreh.
With added humour ...
We pulled off the road on a corner for this photo.
I noticed a dog that we'd disturbed first. Then some movement in the bushes.
The army sentry had been a little asleep.
Big smiles all round ...
We smiled, but not because ....."
The military checks became a bit more serious on this section towards the border.
A bit of fun at the second one - there were some stalls, the army guy asked if he could look inside and I let the steps down for him. The women stall holders queued up for a look too.
We were well looked after and expedited through the process, including a visit to "my officer".
Really a visa and contents check.
Not so lucky was a German cyclist who seemed to have to open everything.
We are in Moreh. An autonomous region within the state of Manipur. With a border crossing to Myanmar.
Next to our servo camp site is the Moreh Customs' Post.
A bit like Brisbane having its own customs. But I guess we pay "rates".
After a long tiring day we have a day in hand, for rest and rewiring, before joining the convoy and crossing into Myanmar.
Having mentally separated "power" and "control" circuits it seemed that the problem(s) were all in the control circuits.
Tracing wires through the maze of the loom didn't seem to be getting any closer.
So. With a bit of trepidation, find a fused supply and install a by-pass wire.
One for the blower motor, which also brought aircon to life. Another for the windows - its a bit like a radio, there's a permanent supply and a switched supply from the ignition. Its the latter I by-passed.
The only strange happening was that the engine sometimes wouldn't stop when the ignition was turned off. Basically power fed backwards through the circuit. Annoying that it was intermittent. Solved by cutting the old wire near my new loop for the windows.
A pleasant side effect is that the alternator light now turns off as normal. Immediately on starting. No having to raise the revs a bit.
So after 5 hours of careful step by step methodical work I'll declare a small victory and retire for lunch and a siesta.
For the record, otherwise I'll forget - a black wire linked from blue/white at blower fuse to red wire headed to blower switch. And a short black wire link in the plug to back of window switch unit in right hand door, from orange (power) to yellow/black (labeled "starter switch" on circuit board). I cut the yellow/black wire near the switch connector.
Apparently two Indian businessmen are missing in Myanmar and the Myanmar government are not doing enough to search for them.
A couple more members of the convoy turned up. People we'd met already - you guessed it, in Pokhara. We are now seven. Plus a report that others who met up in Guwahati are stuck in a long queue of trucks.
The servo operator is being very understanding.
We'll wait until Joern's (organiser) Indian friend turns up or someone from his convoy from Thailand to India crosses the border.
Meanwhile, enjoy the sunshine. And a real rest.